


this poison comes instruction free

by 9crimes



Series: this poison comes instruction free [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, PWP, Sex Pollen, and just straight up fucking, post S1, sorta?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-20
Updated: 2014-09-20
Packaged: 2018-02-18 03:46:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2334089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/9crimes/pseuds/9crimes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>‘Lincoln said…he said that sometimes they put…certain stimulants into their drinks during these festivals. That’s why I said we shouldn’t drink the wine – ‘</p>
<p>‘Stimulants? What the fuck kind of stimulants? Sexual stimulants? Jesus, Clarke, you didn’t think you maybe should have mentioned this to me?’ </p>
<p>Or, Clarke and Bellamy try it 'Just once' to 'Get it out of our systems'</p>
            </blockquote>





	this poison comes instruction free

   When Bellamy finds Clarke, she’s swaying in time to the pulsing of the drums, her crown of blonde hair standing out in the crowd. He lets out a breath in relief at the sight of her, but narrow his eyes as she is pulled into the throng of dancing bodies by a woman with wandering hands and a predatory stare. Bellamy starts walking towards her, instinctively putting his hand on his left hip, where he usually keeps his gun ( _No guns, Bellamy, we’re negotiating the terms of a peace treaty for god’s sake!)_. He pauses only when he gets close enough to notice that her eyes are closed, her head thrown back a bit, her mouth in the shape of an ‘O’ as the woman who pulled her into the dance begins moving against her, touching, caressing, and _hell_ Clarke looks like she’s enjoying the fuck out of it.

His mind is racing, trying to remember how many drinks she’d had that evening. But then, they’d agreed not to drink, not wanting anything to impair their judgment when it came to negotiations. He’d been with her all night, save the last 15 minutes or so, and neither of them had had a single drink. And, ok, it’s not like he has a _problem_ per say with Princess letting her hair down and having a little fun. God knows she could use it, and there’s the added bonus of being away from camp where she’s not cornered by responsibility and needy teenagers at every turn.

But, there’s just something…off about the whole situation.

For one thing, the whole damn village seemed to have fallen into a sexual frenzy as soon as the sun went down. He’s read about the Spring Festivals of various cultures hundreds of years ago, and Lincoln had warned them that things might get a little weird, so he was expecting some debauchery, but nothing like… _this._ And if he’s being honest, he’s not exactly un-affected. The second he saw Clarke through the crowd his dick jumped a little and it’s getting worse the closer he gets to her.

Bellamy stops right behind her and puts his hands on her hips, pulling her out of the dancing crowd, digging his fingers in and pulling her into him when she doesn’t stop moving. He hisses a little bit at the feel of her ass all but grinding on his dick and puts a hand on her stomach to stop her movements.

‘What the _fuck_ is going on?’

 

 

Clarke is snapped out of the haze she’s been in for the past 15 minutes by a combination of Bellamy’s deep voice in her ear and the feel of _him_ pressed against her in all the wrong but oh-so-right places. It’s not the first time she’s felt his hard-on pressed into her back; they’ve fallen asleep together more than a few times over the last few years, pouring over patrol rotations and their version of blueprints for the camp late into the night. But those mornings where she woke up with Bellamy’s arm draped across her waist, hand resting on her ribcage, dick hard and heavy pressed against her ass or lower back, were easy to blame on biology. It’s natural, she’d remind herself, for a man to wake up in a state of arousal. Didn’t mean anything, just science really.

But this? Feels so far from scientific. Clarke knows there’s something off here, something affecting her typically much more controlled instincts. But she can practically feel Bellamy’s lips on her neck, and his hands are digging into her hips so hard it’s almost painful, but at the same time so…the complete _opposite_ of painful. It feels _good_ and she doesn’t really give a fuck about control or her instincts or anything else. Everything around her has faded into a blur, all her senses honed in on Bellamy’s hands and his lips and his hair tickling the shell of her ear.

She lets her hand snake up around his neck, pulling his lips closer to her neck, and the low curse he lets out against her skin sends a shiver through her whole body.

‘Fuck. Clarke, come on…’ he groans against her neck and then he’s pulling away from her, grabbing her hand and dragging her to the hut they’re sharing.

When they’re inside Bellamy presses his hand to his forehead and Clarke really can’t stop herself from wanting his hands back on her. Even just standing here watching him pace and push his hands through his hair, she has to press her legs together and clench her fists at her side to stop herself from reaching down and touching herself, relieving the pressure that’s been building there since sundown and has just gotten worse since Bellamy found her in the crowd.

‘Ok, ok, _shit_ we gotta think, Clarke, just…’ he’s breathing heavy, panting almost, and his jaw is clenched.

Clarke nods, closing her eyes because god she can’t even begin to _think_ while looking at Bellamy.

She’s the one pacing now, attempting to gather her thoughts and focus on anything other than the throbbing between her legs. ‘Lincoln said…he said that sometimes they put…certain stimulants into their drinks during these festivals. That’s why I said we shouldn’t drink the wine – ‘

‘ _Stimulants?_ What the fuck kind of stimulants? Sexual stimulants? Jesus, Clarke, you didn’t think you maybe should have mentioned this to me?’

‘I don’t know, Bellamy! It didn’t seem important! I just thought, we’d skip the wine and…’

‘Well clearly that plan didn’t work out so well’ He lets out another curse, then takes a deep breath. ‘Look, they obviously put that shit in our food. It’s in our systems, no use arguing about how it got there’. Clarke bites her lip. It’s getting more and more difficult not to rub her legs together and try to get some friction.

‘Yea’ she lets out a shuddering breath. ‘What…what do we do?’ She makes eye contact with him for the first time since they got to the hut. The wave of heat that goes through her whole body makes her regret it immediately.

‘ _Do?_ We’re not _doing_ anything, Clarke, jesus’. The heat that she feels at that is different. Shame, embarrassment…she assumed he was feeling the same almost desperate attraction and need she was. But you know what, she thinks, fuck him. She knows he’s feeling the effects of the stimulant too, knows it for a fact.

‘Don’t be an ass, Bellamy. It’s not like I’m the only one feeling it’ she looks pointedly in the direction of his crotch. He doesn’t try to cover it up, doesn’t turn around or adjust his pants. Just stands there looking at her, dick pressing against his pants, mouth sliding into a half-grin.

‘You’re right. Doesn’t mean I’m gonna fuck you’. Her mouth drops at his bluntness and her embarrassment from before turns to anger. She knows she’s probably red as the mutated tomatoes Monty tried to grow last summer.

‘Oh my _god! I wasn’t asking you to!_ Ugh, you’re so - ’

‘Course you weren’t. You’d never lower yourself to my level, Princess, everyone knows that by now’.

She can never tell when Bellamy’s joking or being sarcastic. It happens less and less often lately. The more established and functional The 100 become, the more responsibility she and Bellamy take on. Anyways, even if he is making some sort of joke, she’s pretty sure there’s some truth to it.

‘That’s ridiculous, Bellamy, you know that’s not – ‘

‘Whatever. Point is, this is hardly the first time I’ve had a hard-on for you that I had no plans to do anything about, and I think you know that. This isn’t any different. So to answer your question, Clarke, what we’re gonna do is this: you stay on your side, I’ll stay on mine. We’ll wait it out. Should be through our systems by morning.’

It’s not that she disagrees, this is clearly the most rational and sensible solution. But he just all but admitted that he’s attracted to her and thinks about her sexually, not just as his annoying sometimes-friend and co-leader, and damn if that doesn’t make her… _situation_ that much worse. She’s almost 100% sure she’s not going to make it the whole night, and if he’s just a few feet away from her? _Ungh._

‘Um, maybe it would be better if I just…slept somewhere else? Maybe there’s another hut?’

He scoffs ‘Yea, I’m really gonna leave you alone in a village full of sex-crazed grounders. Come on, Clarke’.

‘ _Stop_ doing that. Stop acting like I’m an idiot. I’m just trying to make this…easier’. He barks out a harsh laugh at that.

‘Easier? You think not being in the same room will make this easier?’ He shakes his head and sinks down on to the floor, back against the wall. He tilts his head back to look at the ceiling (anywhere but at her, apparently) and her mouth goes dry at the way his eyes close and his adams apple bobs. ‘Look, like I said, this isn’t the first time I’ve dealt with this shit. Trust me, proximity has nothing to do with it. You could go back to fuckin space and I’d still be here in this hell-hole, jerking off to some random memory of you every night. So, just, stay here alright? At least then I’ll know you’re safe’.

Well then. She’s pretty much speechless after that, giving him a quick nod and settling in on top of the blanket on the surprisingly comfortable bed. She faces away from him, hoping that will make some sort of difference (she can still hear him breathing, short shallow breaths, so yea it doesn’t really help).

 

 

Bellamy has never believed in a higher power, but right now he’s praying to every deity he ever read about. Roman gods, Greek gods, hell Jesus Christ himself…anyone who can get him out of this cruel and unusual version of hell. Clarke is not even 50 feet away, panting and squirming and every once in awhile she makes this _noise_ and fuck, it’s one thing to imagine what she’d sound like when she’s all turned on, it’s another to actually hear it. Hot as fuck is what it is.

She lets out another noise, and this one is more pained than sexy.

‘Clarke?’ he whips his head to look over at her, has to dig his fingers into the floor to stop himself from getting up and rushing over to her.

‘Y-yea, I’m ok. It just…doesn’t it hurt, Bellamy? It’s starting to hurt’ She groans again and he tries not to panic. Hurt? Yea, his dick is hard as a rock but definitely not anything painful.

‘What hurts? Describe it’

‘Please don’t make me say it, Bellamy, it just…it hurts’ her voice is small and he feels it in the bottom of his stomach. He was harsh earlier, he knows that, but he didn’t ever want her to be hurt. That’s…the last thing he wants, actually.

‘Ok, ok. Just…I think it’s uh, affecting you more. You’re much smaller, and you ate more than me. That’s probably why it’s hurting for you and not me’. He can see the back of her head moving and assumes she’s nodding.

‘Clarke. Look at me’. She stills, sucks in a breath.

‘I don’t think that’s a good idea. Looking at you makes it…well, worse’.

He tries really really hard to not feel satisfaction at that. _It’s the stimulant_ he tell himself. It’s not like she’s actually attracted to him. Still, he doesn’t think there’s anything wrong with letting himself pretend for a few seconds.

‘OK. The pain, is it…is it bad?’

She doesn’t respond for a few seconds, then she does turn to him. She’s sweating so much that her curls are sticking to her forehead and the side of her face. Her pupils are dilated and her legs are clenched together _hard._

‘It’s pretty bad’ she whispers, and fuck this. She’s in pain and if there’s some way to prevent it he’s not sure he’s going to be able to stop himself from doing it. Somehow over the last few years she’s pushed her way onto the short list of people he would do pretty much anything to prevent from being hurt. He’s failed the other 2 people on that list miserably (though he has to say, things with Octavia have been pretty smooth sailing since Mt. Weather. Still, doesn’t erase all the pain and heartache he caused her before that), he’s gonna do everything he can to make sure he doesn’t fail Clarke.

‘Look, Clarke, maybe you should…you should do whatever you need to to make yourself feel…good, ok?’

She lets out a whimper, which, _fuck_ if he can’t even deal with that sound coming out of her mouth how’s he supposed to deal with her touching herself?

‘What…what do you mean?’ the breathiness in her voice tells him she knows exactly what he’s talking about. But she’s hurting, so he humors her.

‘Touch yourself. Make yourself come. Maybe with the, uh, release, the effects of the stimulant will go away’ He has no fucking idea what he’s talking about, but she nods like it makes perfect sense. She’s the doctor, so fuck it.

She relaxes her fists, unclenching them from the sheets on the bed under her. Her hands move to her thighs, slowly moving higher until her fingers are resting on the zipper of her pants. She’s looking at him, her eyes pleading and unsure.

‘Do it’. He says hoarsely. ‘Do it, Clarke, it’ll help’.

If he was a better man he’d turn his back to her, at least turn his head. Thing is, he doesn’t want to. If she asked him to, he absolutely would. But she hasn’t broken eye contact yet, and he’s not about to question that.

She gets her jeans off pretty fast, but leaves her underwear on. Same with the top half, shirt off but bra stays on. Her nipples are hard and her white bra is so soaked with sweat he can see clearly the pink nubs and the darker skin surrounding them. He wants to put his hand on his dick but he’s kind of terrified to move. She’s giving him so much more than he ever thought he’d get, he doesn’t want to be greedy. Just wait, he tells himself, take it all in and _wait._ She’ll be better after this is done, will probably fall asleep. Then he’ll have all night to jerk himself raw, remembering her strong thighs and the way her chest moves when she breathes.

‘Bellamy’ she breathes his name and _oh hell_ he’s so fucked, so much more fucked than he even thought he was.

‘Y-Yea?’ her fingers are just barely ghosting over her underwear now, and when she slips her right hand in he doesn’t know exactly how he’s going to survive this.

‘Say something. Please?’

‘What, uh, what do you want me to say?’ He’s pretty sure he knows exactly what she wants him to say, and fuck yea, but he wants her to be clear about it.

‘Just anything. I just need...’ She’s struggling to express herself and he remembers she’s still in pain, her timid touches probably not doing much to alleviate her.

‘OK. Ok. _Fuck…_ ’ He’s not even sure how to start this. What does one say when they are trying to talk their drugged up co-leader through an orgasm?

‘Take off your panties’ Well there’s a start. He feels like a total idiot, but she makes that little whimper again and immediately does as he said and yea that makes him feel better about the whole thing.

She’s looking at him expectantly now, and shit they’re actually doing this.

‘Alright. Now touch yourself. Make it feel good, Clarke’. She bites her lip and nods, moving her hand back to her pussy. Her legs are still clenched together, but they fall open immediately when her fingers put pressure on her clit. She rubs herself slowly for a bit, and he lets her set the pace. When she hisses in pain, he knows she needs more and tells her to put a finger inside.

‘You’re so wet, jesus, I can see it from here. It’ll slip right in, fuck, go ahead and use 2 fingers’. When she does, she bites back a gasp at what he imagines is relief, and from there it’s all her. The way her hips move makes his mouth dry and when her right hand drifts up to her breasts and pinches her nipple he can’t stop himself from fisting his cock through his pants.

She goes on like that for a few minutes, fucking the hell out of herself with her fingers and using her thumb to rub her clit on every downstroke. He can tell she’s getting frustrated, right on the edge but _not quite there._ He wants to see her come, wants to see her face when she does, wants to see her lose all that carefully maintained control.

‘C’mon, do it, come for me…goddamn you’re such a fuckin good girl, Clarke, keep going princess, just like that, you need it harder? Do it, fuck yourself harder. _Shit_ I wish it was me inside you’ and apparently that’s what she needed because her hips are bucking wildly, back arched, and she tenses up so tight he’s afraid the tendons in her neck are going to burst. He keeps whispering shit about how pretty she looks, how good she’s doing, how much he wants her. It’s all about 200% true and he feels a little like he’s cheating, telling her like this, but fuck it. He’s been holding all this in for years. He draws the line, though, when ‘ _fuck, I love you so much’_ echoes in his head. That’s crossing a goddamn line (and considering what just happened, he doesn’t miss the irony of that).

When she’s come down from the orgasm, she has a small smile on her face. She looks like she’s been through another damn hurricane, but she’s smiling and that’s pretty much all he could ask for.

‘You feel better?’

‘Yessss’ she hisses, sinking back onto the bed, still naked except for her bra. He looks away.

‘Good. Good’.

The only sound for a while is that of Clarke breathing heavily as she comes down from her high.

‘Bellamy?’ He bangs his head against the wall once, really hating the fact that just her voice makes his dick jump.

‘Huh?’

‘Are you…did you…make yourself feel good, too?’ He almost laughs at the way she describes it, repeating his words from earlier back to him. The girl just got off on some of the dirtiest shit he’s ever said to another human being but she can’t say ‘did you jerk off?’

‘Nah, ‘m good. It’s uh, not that bad now. I’m just gonna sleep it off. You should rest, been a rough night’.

She’s quiet after that, and he thinks she’s asleep until he hears the sheets rustling and her feet touching the ground. His eyes shoot open and when he sees her walking towards him, he actually moves _away_ from her. _You’re such a coward, Blake_ he thinks. But God, she’s taken her bra off now and she’s like, completely naked and _hasn’t he suffered enough tonight?_ This is it, he thinks, this is his punishment for all the fucked up shit he’s done.

When she gets close to him she drops down to her knees, her hair falling over her shoulders. It’s gotten so long (she’d attempted a hair cut once. 2 years ago. Never again) it just barely covers her nipples.

‘Bellamy’ Her voice is stronger now, confident. He, on the other hand, squeaks out something resembling ‘hunhg?’

‘What if I asked you?’

She’s naked and saying things and he’s not sure how he’s expected to respond in this situation so he just…sits there, staring at her.

‘Earlier, you said I’d never ask you to fuck me. But what if I did?’ He feels his throat get tight, feels the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

‘I thought you were feeling better? Are you still in pain? Look I’ll do whatever you need me to – ‘

She puts a hand on his thigh and fuck fuck _fuck_ this whole thing is getting so out of hand.

‘It’s not about the stimulant, Bellamy. Besides, Lincoln said this stimulant doesn’t create attraction, it just…enhances desires that are already there’. He sputters at that. And tries not to wonder why his sister’s boyfriend (husband…whatever. He’s not sure how marriages work for the grounders but they’re living together and shit so they might as well be married) knows so much about this goddamn sex drug, why he was discussing it with Clarke, and why the _hell_ neither of them thought to tell him about it.

‘I…’ is the eloquent reply he comes up with. Yea, he’s a regular lothario.

‘Look, I know you want me. All that stuff you said…I could tell you meant it. And I want you too. Just this once, let’s do something just because it makes us feel good’.

He can’t believe he’s hearing these words come out of her mouth, but on the other hand he gets what she’s saying. They’ve been killing themselves for 2 years now, every decision they’ve made based on what’s best for the teenagers they are responsible for.

‘Besides, aren’t you the one always saying I don’t know how to have fun? Well, this? This would be _fun’_ She raises an eyebrow at him and he smiles in spite of the millions of scenarios of how bad this could fuck things up running through his head.

‘Fun is kind of an understatement, it’d be friggin incredible and you know it’ she rolls her eyes and how fucked up is it that that makes his dick even harder.

‘Best sex of your life, Clarke, you sure you’re ready for that? All downhill from here, babe’ the mood is playful now, a huge contrast to just 30 minutes ago when Clarke was writhing around in pain. He’s a big fan of the change.

Speaking of things he’s a big fan of, Clarke is now straddling him, her knees on either side of his hips and her hands on the hem of his shirt, slowly pushing it up over his chest.

‘Does that mean we’re doing this?’ He locks eyes with her, searching for any sign of hesitation. He raises his hands to her face, tracing her lips with his thumb. He pulls her lips apart, thumb still tracing the top lip, and then he kisses her.

 

 

Clarke has thought about kissing Bellamy…kind of a lot. It’s cliché, but whatever she had imagined in the past, all the dreams she’s had in between sleeping and waking, doesn’t come close to comparing to the reality.

He’s much more careful than she’d imagined him, timid almost. She wonders how much of that is who he really is, or if it’s the situation they’re in. It’s nice that he’s been so courteous and uh, _helpful_ throughout this whole bizarre night, but she wants _him_. She wants all of him, really, everything he has to give.

‘Bellamy’ she whispers against his lips ‘Come on…’

He stops then, brings his big hands to rest on either side of her face, lips parted like he wants to say something but can’t get the words out (he’s been looking at her like that a lot lately, she realizes).

He lowers his forehead to hers, wraps his arms around her until her chest is pressed to his, legs crossed behind his back, hips perfectly aligned. She can feel his breath on her cheek, harsh and raw, and she should have _known_ it’d be like this between them. She should have known he wouldn’t let her pretend this could be anything other than devastating, soul-shattering, life changing.

‘I can’t fuck this up. Clarke…’ She’s in a bit of a haze but his words register and she wants to reassure him or something, but all she can manage is a nod. They need each other, can’t really survive without each other at this point. It’s probably not healthy, in fact she’s sure it’s not, but it’s their reality. They’re good together, the way they run things is working. Bringing sex into it is probably not smart, but it’s done and there’s no taking it back. It’s not like she’s never thought about him like this before, and she now knows how much _he’s_ thought about it. It’s not like things between them won’t be changed after tonight anyways, even if they didn’t actually fuck.

‘Maybe we just need to get it out of our systems. Just once’ she whispers, avoiding eye contact but wrapping herself around him just a little tighter.

He laughs a little ‘Just once huh?’ and she should have known, once again, that he would see right through her. But then he narrows his eyes and she can almost see his thought process play out on his face (it’s exhausting sometimes, being able to read him so well).

‘Yea, ok’ he says, his voice seeming to drop an octave ‘Just tonight’.

‘Bellamy, if you don’t want to – ‘

‘I do’ and fuck, his voice is downright seductive now.

‘OK’ she’s a little taken off guard by his sudden confidence. ‘Um, should we set some guidelines, or um ground rules then?’

‘Fine. When we get back to camp, it’s done. We don’t talk about it, we don’t tell anyone’ It’s a good idea, she knows that, but she can’t help but feel a twinge of something, regret perhaps? And it just figures, as soon as she starts having second thoughts he’s full steam ahead and vice versa. It’s kind of how things always are with them, complete opposites but without each other they’d never move forward.

‘Of course. And…just sex, right? There won’t be any…complications, afterwards?’ He tenses and clenches his jaw, which is always his tell when something is uncomfortable, but the determined look on his face stays so she decides to focus on that.

He doesn’t respond, just slides his left hand to the back of her head and kisses her. It’s different from the first kiss, kind of the opposite actually. Where he was timid and almost gentle before, he is just the right amount of aggressive and passionate now.

When he bites down on her lower lip she gets so wet it’s almost embarrassing.

He lets his hands run down her back, coming to rest on her ass. He pulls her against his hard-on and she gasps into his mouth when she feels his dick through his pants (he’s still fully dressed. She’s too desperate to do anything about it), sliding against her slick folds, the head rubbing her clit.

His lips have moved to her neck now, high enough so her hair will cover any marks he makes, and he’s whispering something about making her remember this, but she can’t make herself care because he’s also unbuttoning his pants and _oh fuck she’s about to have sex with Bellamy jesus christ_.

When he feels her tense up he pulls away, pushes her hair out of her face and searches her eyes.

‘No, no, don’t stop I’m just…’

‘I want to fuck you’ her breath catches and the muscles in her cunt clench. She’s nodding furiously before she can even begin to think of a response.

‘I wanna make you come. I wanna feel it, wanna see it. And then I want to taste it, I wanna make you come and then taste it on my tongue -’ He goes on like that (and how did she not guess that he would be a fucking pro at talking dirty?) but when Clarke looks down and sees him working his cock, his hand sliding up and down, she can’t focus on anything but getting him inside her.

‘Shutup, shutup, shutup Bellamy, do it, do it _now_ ’

When he doesn’t, she does.

She reaches between them, lifts her hips up a little, and lowers herself onto him. It’s slow, at first, and she digs her fingernails into his shoulder until he hisses in pleasure/pain. She just nods and lets out a sigh that sounds more like a sob.

When he’s fully inside her, she’s still for a minute so her body can adjust. It’s not a perfect fit, at first, like most things go with them. He’s a little too thick and she’s a little too tense. But when he knots his hands through her hair and kisses her, sucking on first her bottom lip then her top, it’s kind of perfect.

The only sound in the room is their harsh breaths as they sit, Bellamy’s back against the wall and Clarke in his lap, legs wrapped around his waist.

Clarke starts moving first, rolling her hips back and forth slowly, searching for the right rhythm. Then Bellamy shifts back a little, changing the angle and causing his cock to hit a spot inside her she didn’t know about til now, and she has to bring her fist to her mouth to stop herself from screaming out.

‘Good?’ He asks ‘That feel good? Come on, tell me what you want, tell me what feels good’ and it’s really not fair that he is coherent enough to talk, while the most she can manage is ‘again, again, more…’.

They’re moving together now and Clarke has given up on finding any sort of rhythm. It’s fast and desperate for a few minutes, then he’ll just stop moving and grab her face and just _look_ at her while she grinds against him.

When she feels that tell-tale tightening in her core, she reaches a hand between their bodies and rubs her clit, tiny fast circles just like she knows will make her come.

Bellamy is panting now, mumbling incoherently about how she feels around him and how bad he wants her to come, his hair curling around his sweaty forehead, his eyes dark as she’s ever seen them and focused completely on her.

When she comes, a slideshow of all the different ways this man has looked at her flashes through her brain.

 

 

Clarke coming around his dick is probably the single most incredible thing Bellamy has ever felt. He knew it’d be like this, he _knew_ once he had her once he’d just want her even more. The idea of ‘getting it out of his system’ is so absurd it’s almost funny.

She’s beautiful like this, completely bared body and soul (fuck that’s cheesy as hell, but it’s fucking true). He knows her like the back of his hand, knows what her opinions on most anything will be before she even expresses them. He can take nonverbal cues from her like a motherfucker, always able to tell when to step in to deal with a problem, and when to get the hell out of her way cause she’s got it under control and will be pissed if he tries to undermine her. But this, seeing her like this is new, and he’s soaking in the information like a sponge, cataloguing every reaction and every expression away in his brain.

For example, the way she bites her lip and the peaceful smile that spreads across her face after she’s come. The same thing happened earlier, when she made herself come (and let’s be real, that’s exactly what happened just now too. He was basically a human sex toy that she used for her pleasure. He fucking _loved_ it).

He wants to see it again.

She lets out a cute little scream when he stands up, her legs still wrapped around his waist, and carries her to the bed on the other side of the hut. It’s high enough off the ground that when he lays her down on the edge and gets on his knees, he just has to lean down a little bit to get his head between her legs.

He lets his hands move up her body to grab her breasts (which, _fuck,_ if this is going to be a one night only thing he definitely needs to make sure he spends a little more time there because goddamn her tits are amazing) and licks straight into her, tasting her orgasm just like he said he wanted to.

She grabs his hair, her legs clench around his neck and he’s surrounded by her. _Good_ he thinks, he wants that, he wouldn’t move his mouth away from her even if he could.

When he feels her start to clench around his tongue he wraps a hand around her hip and uses 2 fingers to rub fast little circles on her clit, just like he watched her do earlier. She’s aching her back and bucking her hips hard now, her fists still clenched in his hair. He looks up at her to see her eyes shut tight and her head rolling from side to side, her lips opened in an ‘O’ as she whispers his name over and over.

She’s right there, so close, he can feel it. So he switches it up, puts his fingers in her and curls them up, and moves his tongue to her clit. He presses the flat of his tongue against her over and over until she pulls her hand from his hair and fists her mouth to stop herself from screaming. She spasms on his fingers and fuck, now he wants to feel that on his dick again.

She stops him, though, when he stands up and rubs the head of his dick against her.

‘Bellamy oh my god’ she laughs ‘You’re insane!’

He flashes her a grin ‘Just tryin to take advantage of this, princess, ‘just once’ right?’

‘Oh and I guess it doesn’t count as ‘one time’ until you’ve come, right?’ she rolls her eyes ‘your underlying misogyny is a real turnoff, Blake’.

‘Hey, I never said that’ he smiles because god he’d hoped it’d end up like this, them going right back to being them, no awkwardness or uneasiness.

‘I mean, it’s pretty obvious there’s gonna be more than one time. But tomorrow, it’s over, so I’m gonna take as much of you as I can get until then’. The smile falls from her face at that and she looks away from him.

He puts a hand on her cheek and turns her back to him ‘Hey, come on, don’t. We’re good, ok? Just tonight, get it out of our systems, like you said, then back to normal yea?’ She nods.

‘Right. But for now, I need a break. Pretty sure I’ve lost all feeling in my right leg’.

He tries not to be proud of that.

(He is. He really really is).

Later, when they’ve both sated (for the moment, anyways) she sleeps sprawled across his chest and he lets himself pretend, just for a few moments, that this is his life. That she’ll never get him out of her system, the same way he’ll never get her out of his.

It’s the best night of sleep he’s had on earth.


End file.
